The Wife of a Rock Star: a Twenty One Pilots FlashFic
by Obsessedtwibrarian
Summary: Being the wife of a rock star is not all glitz and glamor.


The Wife of a Rock Star

When she opened the door, she wished for everything on the other side of it to be gone. Not gone forever, of course, because that would be selfish of her and hurtful for him. This wonderful terrible madness was their life now. It was exhilarating; it was exhausting. But, he'd chosen it willingly, and she'd willingly chosen _him_. Sometimes you had to take the exquisitely good with the heart-breakingly bad. But a few days away from it all wasn't too much to ask, was it?

Sometimes she imagined all this had never happened, that they could turn it all off, hang out and laugh, talk, watch television, or listen to music like they used to. Their trip to Disney World seemed like it'd happened decades ago. She hadn't fully appreciated that simple life without all the stress and worries they had now.

But he ate, slept. and breathed this hectic, chaotic life. He thrived on it. The reality of loving him was the inevitableness of accepting that fact, and everything else that was waiting on the other side of that door.

She wasn't ungrateful for the life she had now. She loved him with all of her heart and soul, and she was confident in the knowledge that he felt the same about her. She was just a bit tired, that's all. A rest would do them all good—a _real_ rest, not one where he still had to get up early every day and do something work-related. A rest in a real house instead of a hotel suite, with a kitchen and the smell of coffee and bacon frying. He needed that stability among the chaos, even if he didn't realize it.

She worried about him all the time. She doubted anyone knew, except those closest to him, how hard he worked to fulfill his commitments. She'd never met anyone so driven, and she admired that trait in him so much. But driven people often neglected their own physical health and mental well-being in their search for perfection. He wasn't any different in that regard.

His elbows were a bruised mess, sometimes aching to the point that he couldn't sleep. She'd ordered him some elbow pads to protect them, but he'd just laughed softly and gently told her to return them, that he was fine. She didn't understand why he felt it necessary to fall flat on his back on stage, with only his elbows to soften his landing. She worried that one night he'd make a mistake and hit head-first, but she'd never verbalized that concern. He would only smile and tell her he was okay. But was he, really? She often wondered if the fall was just a gimmick for the show, or his unique way of facing and overcoming his fears. She tended to believe it was the latter.

His soul was taking a beating, too. Oh, he'd never admit it, but he didn't have to. Anyone who really knew him had learned to spot the warning signs. Despite his success, he still battled depression and self-doubts. It hurt her heart to watch him turn frighteningly quiet in an interview, knowing he'd rather be anywhere else but there at that moment. But when the darkness overwhelmed him, Josh always stepped in and took the reins—God bless him—chattering on and on about whatever silly thing they were being asked, and saving the interview.

But even when it seemed like he couldn't make it through another day, he always did. _Always._ He was an incredibly strong person, but even the strongest must acknowledge their weaknesses, and that was the driving force behind his music: his need to face and conquer the darkness in himself. The man she'd married was an extremely complex person, and she sometimes wondered if she would ever fully understand him.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror by the door. She looked as tired as she felt, but there was nothing to be done about it. They had a long night ahead of them. They'd be lucky if their heads hit a pillow by 2 am.

She reached for the door handle, mentally preparing herself to face what lay on the other side of it, when it unexpectedly swung open. She yelped in surprise and instinctively jumped back.

He chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Her heart was slow to return to its usual pace. Whether it was the unexpected surprise of him bursting through the door, or just the overwhelming beauty of the man himself, she didn't know, since his smile tended to upset the normal workings of her body on a pretty regular basis.

Her inner clock told her he shouldn't be standing in front of her, smiling, with his hands folded behind his back. "Aren't you supposed to be going on stage in the next few minutes? I was just getting ready to leave for the venue."

He shrugged and grinned. "Whatever." Then he whipped his hand from behind his back and in it was a single pink rose. "For you."

A silly giggle flew out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"I stole it from the backstage room at the venue."

"Isn't there a commandment about that stealing thing?" she asked.

He smirked. "Yeah, well, I don't think stealing a flower for your beautiful wife counts."

She felt a blush creep up her neck as she accepted the rose. "Thank you, but seriously, Tyler, what are you doing here?"

"The snowstorm knocked the power out at the venue. They say it's going to be out for a while, and because of the city's noise ordinances we can't start the show after 9:30. So, they're going to reschedule."

"We have the whole night to ourselves?" she asked, astonished, but grateful, for the unexpected gift of his time.

He nodded.

"So, what are we going to do?"

He smiled crookedly, and her heart swelled with love for him. "Anything Jenna Joseph wants to do."


End file.
